


Communication

by screamlet



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamlet/pseuds/screamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detailing the first shore leave of the USS Enterprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discount Shot Night

"Jim! What are you doing here? Are you sick?" McCoy whirled around and barked, "Chapel! Have you --" 

"Cool it, Bones, I just came to see what this place looks like when it's not on fire."

McCoy raised an eyebrow.

"And to ask who you've been sleeping with, because I haven't had any since we set out and I'm about to _die_."

"Jim, am I your friend or your doctor right now?"

"Can't you be my doctor friend? My friendly doctor? Why one or the other?"

"Are you _flirting_ with me? You _are_ desperate. What about arranging for some shore leave?"

"Some _what_?" Kirk sat up excitedly on the examining bed. "Tell me more!"

"Tell you more what? It's shore leave. Arrange for some. Then... take some. Then... _get some_. It's a straightforward process."

"Well, how'd Pike do it? You were -- no, you weren't. I'm starting to feel a real disadvantage at this whole 'captain straight out of the Academy' thing. It's going to be _great_ for picking up women when we get on shore leave, but how to actually_get_ this shore leave?"

McCoy was at one of the wall terminals and hummed to himself, then told Kirk: "Regulations aren't really clear; 'on the discretion of the captain', but _must_ be set up at least once every six months."

"Well, look at that, for once I'm meeting a deadline early! I'll figure this out, Bones, don't worry about it. We'll be waking up hungover under a table near Vega this time next week, I promise you that."

 

*

 

"Hello, _Admiral_."

"Hey, Kirk. How's the Enterprise? Treating her right? She treating you okay?"

"Things couldn't be better, sir, really. I just have a quick question, something that regulations were a little foggy on so I thought I'd ask, captain to former captain."

"All right, I'm all ears."

"Shore leave. How d--"

"Hold on. You call me in middle of my early retirement to ask me about -- about _shore leave_?"

"Well --"

"Son, that's what your goddamned first officer is for. Go talk to him."

"Yes, sir, but --"

"No, I don't think you understand how the chain of command works -- I don't think you understand what the phrase _early retirement _means. The mentor thing we're working on here, it's real cute, but not now, not on something like _shore leave_."

Kirk looked away from the screen and realized the futility of trying to hide during a video call. "All right, sir, I'll talk to him -- sorry to have bothered you."

"Are you two working well together? I know it was bumpy there for a while --"

"We're getting along, sir, everything's running fine --"

"I don't think it is, or you'd know -- he'd _tell you_ that that's what he's there for. He's your first officer. You should pick up on that already: you're two halves of the same brain. You don't _blink_ without his knowing about it and asking for his input -- and vice versa."

"Yes, sir."

"So go talk to him."

"Yes, sir. Nice talking to you again. Enjoy retirement. Kirk out."

 

*

 

Kirk was back in his chair on the bridge post-chewing-out conference with Pike, and leaned on his hand for a while, watching the stars coast by, before clearing his throat and addressing his first officer.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock whirled smoothly in his chair at the science station, waiting for whatever was going to come from Kirk. When Kirk hesitated, he stood up and made his way over to the chair, hands behind his back, leaning in slightly to allow for the captain's discretion. Finally, he said, "If you would prefer to discuss this off the bridge, I believe we may leave our very capable officers momentarily in charge."

"What? No, Spock, I just wanted to talk to you about shore leave."

"Yes, what of it?"

"Procedures, protocol, forms, calls -- how do we arrange it? For the crew? I think we're all in need of it."

"Well, as we have just received a very minimally taxing assignment from Starfleet, I would suggest allowing me to research for potential Federation outposts near our current destination, set up for exactly this purpose, and which would be most suited to the crew's needs."

"Spock, if you can find us a bar with a 4 AM last call, I'll promote you to god."

"I will accept that touch of hyperbole as a token of your approval and begin work on my proposal immediately."

"Thanks, Commander."

"If that will be all, Captain?"

"Hm... no, that won't be all." Kirk scratched his temple and looked up at Spock, turning his chair slightly to face him. "You know my situation, the situation of a lot of of us on the Enterprise's crew -- graduating from the Academy this year meant getting through the Nero incident alive. Now we're getting our practical training here, so you need to tell me -- well. Anything. Everything."

"You will have to narrow the parameters of what information you would like me to provide you."

"Let's start with shore leave. You're going to check out some planets where we can all go and relax; what do I need to do?"

"You personally, or you as a representative for the administration of the Enterprise?"

"...Both?"

Kirk had noticed that Spock rarely breathed, or rather, lost his breath when launching into minutes of protocol discussion. This was no exception. 

"As your first officer, I will delegate the following responsibilities to various components of the crew: we will have a schedule for shore leave set up, which not only includes the number of days which we will be docked in orbit, but also the shifts for each department. It is customary to have at least 10% of each department's full staff on board at all time, and it will be up logistics to create the rotation schedule. You will need to approve of the schedule once it has been compiled. With regard to protocol for the Enterprise in particular, there is no precedent; however, I can inform you that for this class of ship with our number of personnel being nearly 500, it is customary to allow a maximum of one week for shore leave per six months. And --" 

"A week! _Nice_. Anything else I need to do?" 

"You, personally, will have to give the staff its health and safety lecture prior to the first group beaming down to the planet." 

Kirk bit his lip briefly and raised his eyebrows at Spock, who returned the expression (maybe -- there was a twitch near the top points of the eyebrows).

"Health and safety? Is that code for a sex talk?"

"That would cover a majority of the 'health' aspect, while the 'safety' aspect primarily deals with social conduct between the Enterprise's crew and the inhabitants of the guest planet, native life forms as well as fellow visitors." 

"Sorry, Spock! That sounds like I can't get into a bar fight, and it's been _my_ experience that it's not a night worth having if you can't end it choking on your own blood. Am I right, Lieutenant Uhura?"

"I have no comment on the matter, sir." 

Kirk looked from Uhura and back to Spock, only to see that Spock had been looking at Uhura as well, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"Mr. Spock, all of that sounds like a great plan. Begin on that as soon as possible."

"Yes, Captain. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

"Yeah -- what are you going to do on shore leave?"

"Stay on the ship."

"_What_?"

"Shore leave is intended for rest and it would be illogical to exert myself in order to achieve this rest. I can obtain rest and a meditative state here as well as anywhere else, and my presence on the ship will allow you to visit the planet and... enjoy yourself."

Kirk looked at Spock for a significant amount of time but Spock remained completely cool. Kirk clicked the intercom switch on the chair.

"Attention crew of the Enterprise -- this is the captain. Commander Spock and I are currently arranging for shore leave, due to occur on the completion of our next assignment. I am announcing now the award of two extra days of shore leave to the staff member who can best and most effectively define the concept of 'fun' to Commander Spock. No purchase necessary, void where prohibited. Kirk out." Kirk looked over his shoulder at Uhura and smirked. "Lieutenant, you are prohibited from the competition. Ask me why." 

"I wasn't planning on entering, _Captain_."

"Captain, I understand the concept of 'fun' which you value so highly; simply as a Vulcan, I see that it proves to be illogical more often than not." 

"Sure it does. Sorry to heap one more responsibility on you, but you'll have to run that contest, too. Narrow down the finalists and I'll pick the winner."

"Will that be all, Captain?" 

"Sure, why not. Thanks for visiting me from five feet away. We'll talk again soon." 

Spock returned to his station and Kirk flipped the intercom switch on his chair again, a button allowing him to address only the medical bay. "Bones, you there?"

"Yeah, Jim -- what do you want? That contest for real?" 

"Sure is! Spock is here, though, so don't tell me your winning plan, okay? Anyway, I need you to write me a health and safety lecture to give the crew before shore leave."

"Health and safety? Why don't you just tell them about the time you caught --"

"That will be enough, doctor," Spock said loudly and clearly from his station. Kirk looked over and gave Spock a nod of gratitude.

"Affirmative, Captain; I'll get to work on that."

"Fan-freaking-tastic, Bones; Kirk out."

 

*

  
"Captain, I have chosen Evadne II as our destination," Spock announced a dozen shifts later.

"A bar. Does it have a bar, Spock?"

"As that was your only qualification for a shore leave destination, it would have been illogical to choose a planet without one. Reports declare it the best stocked in this quadrant."

"And when will we be touching down? Beaming down? Whatever?"

"As soon as you give your health and safety lecture. Perhaps you may also consider signing off on this schedule."

"Perhaps. Kirk out."

"Captain, you are not speaking on the intercom -- I am right here."

"Spock, he's being an ass," Uhura said.

"I am aware of that, Lieutenant, thank you. I was hoping to dissuade him from such behavior by pointing out its absurdity."

"We could have so much fun if it wasn't for him," Kirk commented to Uhura.

Kirk imagined that Spock's lips were tight enough to shoot a diamond out of his mouth and into his forehead, effectively lobotomizing him. He offered his most charming and playful of smirks to his first officer.

"Joke, Spock. It's... it's a _joke_."

"As always, Captain."

 

*

  
Sulu and Chekov had become best friends quickly during their time on the Enterprise, though they only spoke non-work related words to each other for approximately one hour per eight hour shift at the console (that hour being half at lunch and half at dinner). What cemented their relationship was being at the front of the ship all the goddamn time, and the trust they had in each other.

Not just in a professional sense -- of course that was a given. It was a trust in absurdity; that whenever Spock and Kirk, Kirk and Uhura, Spock and Uhura versus Kirk, Bones and any/everyone bickered, they could look at each other from the corner of an eye and see a raised eyebrow, a smirk, some sign representing the idea _what the fuuuuuck?!_ (or the Russian equivalent, since Chekov was warming up to Federation Standard English swears rather nicely, and Sulu to Russian ones).

That was the look Sulu and Chekov exchanged then.

 

*

 

"Well, everyone, here we are! Our first health and safety lecture before the first shore leave for the first crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise!" The room burst into applause as Kirk took his place at the front of the room, ready to speechify and taking Bones and Spock by surprise.

"Jim! Where've you _been_?" Bones hissed. He and Spock had been placating the full house while Kirk took his sweet time getting there to deliver _his_ lecture, which Bones pushed at his chest just then in the form of a paper-thin monitor. "This has been on the server all week, but I condensed it to --"

"Bones, you condensed _nothing_," Kirk laughed. "But I condensed it myself." He looked at Spock and said, "Tell Scotty to prepare the transport room -- groups of six will be beaming down in about, say, five minutes."

"Captain, I hardly think five minutes is enough to lecture your entire crew on the dangers that await them on a foreign world when they are not on full alert."

"Watch me."

"I always do."

Kirk walked out onto the platform in front of all his waiting crew members, the mess turned into a makeshift auditorium for this occasion. Kirk saw himself in every single face staring back at him (even Uhura's) -- antsy, excited, ready to stop working for a little while and ready to go out and _do things_, as most of them had spent the past three months sitting in front of screens and in the same surroundings day after day. Kirk and his officers at least had the bridge and its colossal window-monitor showing them space, but even that had its own monotony. How could Bones and Spock expect him to keep them chained there listening to him talk about Garian warts and Campor's disease, all of which they could _treat_, by the way.

"Transport capabilities are ready, Captain," Spock murmured from behind him.

"Thanks." Kirk cleared his throat and clapped his hands, reminding himself a little too much of a gym teacher he once had. "Hey, everyone. All I'm going to say before we start transporting you down is some advice my grandmother gave me when I was --"

"What _grandmother_?" he heard Bones grumble behind him.

"-- just starting out," Kirk continued. "'Be smart; if you can't be smart, be safe; if you can't be safe, name it after me.'"

He could hear Spock's eyebrows rise.

"Any questions?"

None.

"All right, so, you know your assignments -- if you're still on duty, then get back there; if you're beaming down today, you know your group order; _everyone_ should grab a pack before leaving with aprocreationary shots, among other things, and whatever else our good Dr. McCoy thinks we need."

"A few rounds of basic antibiotics and -- well, apparently you'll _see_ when you get your _pack_," Bones announced.

"And how could I forget!" Kirk said as people were rising to leave. "The winner of our 'Commander Spock and the Quest for Fun' contest, after lots of thoughtful deliberation, is Ensign Mandy Johannsen! Enjoy those extra days with someone special, Mandy, you hear? There are gonna be a _lot_ of Evadnians impressed with your flame-eating while declaiming, I can guarantee you that.

"Lecture dismissed! Kirk out!"

"Jim, you need to stop saying that when you're not on the intercom."

"I am in complete agreement with you, Dr. McCoy."

"I'll take it into consideration. Kirk out!"

 

*

 

Spock left the bridge during hour 10 of shore leave -- Kirk had beamed down with the last group and hadn't been in contact once, thus reneging on their agreement of checking in every four hours. However, crew members beamed up occasionally for various reasons and their talk informed Spock of events on the planet's surface. He listened carefully for any talk of the captain.

"Commander," a young ensign muttered with an informal nod of acknowledgement. He turned to the young woman he was with and said, quite loudly, "But did you know he could play the guitar?"

"Ricky, it's not just _playing the guitar_; it's playing it... he played it with such _feeling_, you know?"

"You know, if you're into that... mine's in my quarters..."

Spock ignored it. Where would Kirk get a guitar?

"Commander," another young man said, acknowledging Spock as he rushed through the corridors. Spock stepped aside and watched him continue to shout into his communicator in a most agitated manner. "Look, keep your camera _on him_ -- if he's going to drink that fireball, I want to remember it forever!!! Try and stall him!"

Spock recalled hearing of a cadet at the Academy quite adept at eating flaming shots of liquor, but could not remember his name; he imagined it was one in the same, and ignored it. Perhaps it _was_ Kirk -- hadn't Uhura told him a story in which Kirk did just that to impress her, but which instead resulted in the evacuation of the Academy's entire student center? In the middle of the _day_?

Just as he reached his quarters, three young women walked by, laughing, and acknowledged him briefly. His doors slid open and he almost didn't hear what they said, but his ears picked up certain key phrases:

"I hope the captain finally _does_ sleep with Uhura -- I mean, at this rate they wouldn't even _notice _because of all the booze, and don't you think they just need to get it over with?"

"It wasn't just me, right? I mean, the best I _ever_ had was this Romulan guy at the Academy -- you remember him! He was in the Advanced Inflections class four or five years ago, and we _hated_ each other but -- best I ever had."

"Uh, okay, but I'm just saying if the captain doesn't do her, there's always the rest of us. Personally, I'll give it up to the captain for the Federation, no need to ask _me_ twice, and then maybe she'll --"

"Ensigns," Spock called out. They halted and turned sharply, coming as close to attention as they could after the dozen shots of Evadnian liquor they had shared. Not one looked him in the eye as he addressed them. "Which establishment are the officers of the ship patronizing tonight?"

"Almost everyone is at The Comet," one answered. "They're doing discount shot night, if you're interested."

"Thank you," he replied. He walked quickly towards the transporter room, remembering to shout 'as you were' when he was about 10 feet away.

 

*

 

Spock entered the bar known as The Comet less than five minutes later. It was rather dark, but he saw Starfleet uniforms everywhere, as well as some less familiar ones -- for example, Romulan officers had herded themselves into a corner awkwardly, attempting to not be noticed by the Federation officers. Music blasted and Spock scanned as much of the space as he could, looking for any sign of Kirk or Uhura.

Eventually, Kirk found him.

"Hey Enterprise!" Kirk yelled out over the music. Spock whirled around, but was clapped on the shoulder with surprising force. The captain held an extremely large drink in the hand that wasn't on his shoulder. "Look who's come down for shore leave! It's _Spock_!"

"Enterprise!" a few people yelled out.

"If it wasn't for Spock, we wouldn't be here! Three cheers for Spock!"

"Captain, that is not necessary; I was simply performing my duties as --"

The room began to chant his name over and over, the word "Spock" resounding off the walls. The officers slammed their hands on every open surface, and Spock's ears picked up the vibrations of the thousands of glassware pieces in the establishment.

"To Spock!" Kirk yelled out.

"To Spock!" his crew cried back.

Spock nodded in acknowledgement and received a hundred groans in return. He looked at Kirk, who was still clinging to his shoulder far harder than he thought possible for a human. Kirk led him to the bar and in seconds, a dozen shots in a myriad of colors had lined up in front of the commander, expectant faces surrounding Kirk and Spock.

"You drink them," Kirk said when Spock hesitated.

"Thank you, I am quite aware of --"

"Yeah, you know you drink liquid out of a glass and I'm sure your crazy Vulcan body can hold more than mine," Kirk began, his mouth extremely close to one of Spock's ears, "but I don't think you _know_ that when a packed room of your subordinates have cheered you on for five whole minutes on a foreign planet, you better show all the outsiders that you're worth it; that you can command a staff of 500 _and_ hold your liquor." Kirk took up one of the shots and handed Spock another. "I'll help you out with this one, but then you're on your own, buddy."

Kirk clinked their glasses together, then turned to the expectant crowd.

"To the Enterprise!"

He and Spock downed their shots and slammed the glasses on the bar, and their crew erupted into cheers. The room became awash with noise again and the men turned to the collection of shots waiting for them.

"Captain, I insist --"

"Yeah, why not."

 

*

 

Vulcan bodies were stronger, faster, more sensitive, all around _better_ than the bodies of most other humanoid species. Spock was slightly affected from the copious amounts of alcohol he had been bought by the (surprisingly grateful) crew he had helped command these three (rather difficult) months; Kirk, however, was practically comatose from the crew's love, as manifested in drinks. A few mess workers had given up their booth for their captain and first officer, and left them alone.

"Captain," Spock began. "Do you know where Lieutenant Uhura is?" he asked for the sixth time.

"Uhura?" Kirk said. Acknowledging her name, Spock reflected, that was a step forward. "She never beamed down."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"She _never beamed down_," Kirk replied, enunciating clearly and loudly for Spock's benefit. "Said she had a book or something upstairs. Uh, upstairs on the _ship_. You really fucking got to her with your whole 'blah blah blah exertion isn't relaxing' bullshit."

"I apologize if that somehow offends you, Captain."

"Damn, Spock, we've been together all these months and you still can't call me _Jim _on a regular basis? Come on! What's it going to take? Am I ever going to call _you_ by _your_ first name?"

"Human vocal systems are not capable of pronouncing my full name, _Jim_."

"Fucking try me."

 

*

 

"What the _fuck_ just came out of your _mouth_. It was like a sheep being beat against a rock for its lunch cr -- hey, did your planet have sheep?"

"Only for shearing purposes."

"I need a cheeseburger."

 

*

 

One cheeseburger later, Spock had one arm on the back of the booth and leaned against it, facing Kirk, who was staring at him.

"You have human eyes," Kirk finally said.

Spock tensed.

"They look sad."

Spock inhaled and exhaled slowly. He focused on Kirk's eyes in order to focus his own thoughts, which ran in one very plain direction -- namely, attempting to compute what the chance was of someone who knew close to nothing of his childhood somehow choosing seven words out of the 2.5 million in Federation Standard English that had the immediate effect of making him feel nine years old and helpless again.

"Sorry, that was weird," Kirk said.

"I was mocked as a child," Spock replied, now the one who couldn't take his eyes off Kirk. "Teased physically and verbally, violently and cruelly; my mother's human heritage was often the target."

"Kids suck."

"I believe I would agree with you with regard to those particular classmates of mine." Spock took a shot, careful to put the glass back on the table without smashing it to pieces, as part of him wanted.

"Look at that," Kirk said, smirking.

"What in particular?"

"That thing. Just now. Where we agreed on something."

"Not true."

"What? No? We totally did. Just now. I said something, and you said you believe you agree. You can't take it back! Don't ruin this, Spock!"

"Your comment implied that we never agree on anything. I merely meant by my comment to disagree and perhaps remind you that we also agree on taking two sugars in our respective beverages at breakfast. Coffee for you, tea for me."

"Oh," Kirk said. "I didn't notice."

 

*

 

"I remember things," Kirk said. Spock was astonished that Kirk managed to hold steady while he felt himself deteriorate more with every minute. That didn't stop Spock from taking another drink before replying. He knew that he was still more in control of himself than Kirk, even if _he_ hadn't spent his adolescence and now adulthood becoming acquainted with every intoxicant in the universe.

"I assume you are referring to particular remembrances you wish to discuss with me."

"Old Spock. The mind meld. While it was happening, I only saw what had happened -- the thing with Nero, the ships, the red matter, all that. But then -- it's weird --"

"He transferred irrelevant memories to your memory bank."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

Spock's mouth twitched.

"My conclusion remains."

"We're going to be friends. We're drunk together right now, we're running this ship together, there's no doubt about it. Like it or not, you're going to be my fucking friend."

"I require some clarification on your usage of that participle."

"Wh... it was just an expletive. Not -- well -- not -- okay, look, Old Spock -- I want to speed up the process. I get these flashes, usually when I'm falling asleep or just waking up, of what things were like for Old Spock on the Enterprise. They teased him a lot."

"That is certainly a relief, as I previously believed reaching adulthood would mean fewer instances of mocking my person, my heritage, or my character."

"Ha. You made a joke!" They clinked glasses and took another shot each. "They teased him all the time, and Old Spock and Old McCoy were always fighting like girls, you with your logic and him with his 'oh Spock, be sensitive' all the fucking time. And Old Kirk was there, you know? And there was this --"

"Jim. Don't."

"Don't what?"

"You _must_ stop your obsession with what you experienced in the mind meld."

"You don't want to be my friend?"

"I did not say that -- but forcing this. Comparing us to them -- it will not lead to anything. Theirs is a reality that will never be quite like ours, for better and worse."

"So..."

He thought back to what his older self had said, though his mind felt sluggish in attempting to recall the information and process it. Eventually, he simply looked at Kirk and said, "Know how I judged that contest? Do you know what qualifiers I used in narrowing down the _300 contestants_ in order to fit your completely arbitrary requirements?"

Kirk raised his eyebrows and leaned in. "Go on."

"Jim, the best part of what I am about to tell you is that you didn't even _choose_ my first choice. You chose... Ensign _Mandy_, the flame-eating declaimer. An amusing trick, but not my personal definition of 'fun'."

"And what is? I thought you'd like it; she chose a Vulcan rhetorician."

"You," he replied. "So my first choice was Mr. Chekov, who simply submitted a photo of you from your belated birthday dinner. I believe it was at the point in the evening when you carried him on your back around McCoy, who you had declared the tribble in the middle."

"Aww, _Spock_, are you kidding me? How'd I miss that? What else are you holding out on?" Kirk laughed loudly, then stood up on his seat in the booth and looked around the thinning, though still dark and dense, crowd. "Chekov! Chekov, you here? Chekov!"

"Your commun--"

"You can't hear them in here, Spock," Kirk replied. Chekov and Sulu appeared a few moments later, their necks draped with beads and flowers from _somewhere_, and they grinned excitedly at Kirk, who stepped off the seat, out of the booth, and put his hands firmly on Chekov's shoulders. Spock imagined it was to steady himself, yet Kirk seemed not to waver.

"Mr. Chekov," he began. "Mr. Spock here just told me about your entry for the contest." 

"Sir?" Chekov's eyes opened wider than ever and he looked desperately at Spock and tried to look behind him at Sulu, but Kirk held him firmly in place. "I apo--"

"What? No, shut up, Chekov, Pavel Andreivich, I'm telling you that you were a runner up, so you can have two extra days, too, okay?"

"Okay, sir! Okay! Okay!" Chekov looked about to explode from happiness and quickly gave his captain a tight embrace before breaking away and yelling, "Fuck a _duck_, this is most exciting! Sulu! Did--"

"Yeah, we're going to get some _water_ now," Sulu said, more to Kirk than Chekov, who was naming off saints in sheer excitement as he tried to drag Sulu into the crowd.

"That fucking _made my night_," Kirk said when he sat next to Spock again, their shoulders pressed together and a grin directed solely at him. "I fucking _love_ shore leave."

 

*

 

Kirk's mind was blown, completely blown, by Spock's concerned voice and the _arm_ that draped around his shoulders, the forehead and bowl haircut pressed against his temple. It's... _sympathy_? Like the dog he had as a kid that could sense when he was sad or angry, and would lay across his legs until he was ready to go play some more.

He's sure, _pretty_ sure, that it's something Old Spock would have never done. At least, not with his eyes closed like this Spock.

"You've put up with my whining long enough, Spock -- I think we need another round."

Kirk heard the soft, regular breathing and rolled his eyes. Spock was asleep. "Fucking kidding me." He wrapped an arm around Spock's torso and pulled him upright in the booth, then grabbed his communicator. "Transport? Kirk and Spock here. Two to beam up."

 

*

 

When they materialized, Kirk saw Scotty at his station, reading a handheld screen and tapping the transporter's screen with the other hand. Scotty glanced over to ensure they were in one piece, and burst out laughing.

"Had a bit much of the Aldebaran whiskey, I take it!"

"These Vulcan lightweights," Kirk laughed. "Just can't pace themselves!"

"Need help hiding the corpse?"

"Nah, as you were, Scotty."

Kirk stood in the corridor for a while, supporting Spock, trying to remember which way led to Spock's room. "Hey," he whispered, "Which way do you sleep from the transporter room?"

"You tell me," Spock murmured.

"Scotty!" Kirk shouted behind him, then remembered to lower his voice. "Look up the commander's room for me, would you?"

"Really? It's... there. To the right. Right outside."

"You sneaky little shit!" Kirk hissed in Spock's ear.

 

*

 

Spock woke up in his bed and on his side, limbs akimbo, quite unlike his normal sleeping position flat on his back. He inferred that sitting up would produce a sensation of vertigo due to the toxins still winding through his system, and noticed the pitcher and glass of water placed on the nightstand. He also noted a receptacle with an empty bag placed what appeared to be in vomiting distance from his head. Primitive, but effective, he supposed.

He sat up slightly, shocked to have no vertigo whatsoever, and his bed felt differently; that would be because Kirk was lying on the other half of the bed, also on his side, also asleep. His movement, however, woke Kirk woke up and he was on his back quickly. Kirk rubbed his eyes sleepily and grinned, motioning towards the night table.

"My first year in the Academy," Kirk said, "I took a class on alien biology, right, and Bones dared me to write my final paper on hangover treatments for Vulcans -- just because, you know, _Vulcans_ don't get shitfaced _drunk_, so we think on Earth. I never, _ever_ thought it would come back to me! You know. Usefully."

"Your project hinged on water and a trash can? Did your instructor actually accept that?"

"_And_ injecting you with a vitamin cocktail of my own devising. _You're welcome_."

"Captain, I apologize for my behavior tonight. I beamed down because you had not checked in and --"

"Sorry, I didn't hear anything you said after you didn't address me by my name."

"Jim," Spock sighed. "Your first night of shore leave should not have been spent commiserating with me in a filthy bar and ending the night in my quarters like this."

"Yeah, but it was logical. Preserving my first officer takes precedence over finding some easy Orion girl for the night -- a long term investment." Kirk stretched and yawned, and added, "Besides, there's always tomorrow night."

"I will attempt not to interfere."

"No, you should," Kirk said. "Obviously, not while I'm _in flagrante delicto_ and all that fun stuff, but --" Spock watched his face carefully; Kirk was tired, obviously, and his eyes darted impatiently around the room. He also yawned, smiled, and shrugged before turning on his other side to face Spock and finish his thought. "You should interfere."

"Then for my first act of interference, Jim, I should like to know whether you harbor any non-professional interest for Lieutenant Uhura?"

Spock was surprised because Kirk looked genuinely startled by the question.

"What? Ha, no, okay, so Uhura and I -- did I tell you how we met? Did _she_ tell you how we met?"

"A barroom brawl on Earth spurred by your drunken, unwanted advances on her person."

"...right, well, I was classier than that. How many bar-lurking perverts know about xenolinguistics, huh?" Spock conceded the point and Kirk went on. "Uhura's just Uhura, man. She actually gets riled up when I bug her _and_ she hasn't kicked my ass like you have. Not yet, anyway." Kirk ran a hand through his hair and stretched again. "Are you _jealous_, Spock?"

"Simply concerned at the possibility of complications in our working relationship -- which is logical from my position as first officer. I could continue talking about this, or other highly personal matters, because you have fallen asleep listening to my voice. I could, in fact, say anything and you might not hear it. I could press the depth of your sleep by calling you a short, egomaniacal functional alcoholic and be cleared for it because I am explaining that it is only an exper--"

"Or you could shut up and sleep and not move me, and that's an order. Kirk out."

Spock interfered by taking one of his pillows and placing it under Kirk's head. Then he turned off the lights, turned on his back, turned back onto his side (just in case), and attempted to fall asleep.

 


	2. Diving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to [Discount Shot Night](http://screamlet.livejournal.com/535.html), followed by [Denouement](http://screamlet.livejournal.com/1609.html); exploring the Enterprise's first shore leave.

"Spock. Spock? Commander? First officer? Science officer? Spockers? Spocky? SPOCK."

"_Yes, Jim_," Spock spoke into his communicator, which had fallen onto the floor when Jim had thrown him unceremoniously on his bed the night before.

"Wow, you were still asleep! I'm impressed! Anyway, Scotty left you coordinates in the transport room -- you need to get your Vulcan ass down here because I'm treating the senior officers to lunch."

"I... I slept through breakfast?"

"What the hell does that matter? I'm buying you lunch! Everyone misses you. Everyone, say you miss Spock."

Spock pulled out his regulation casual wear as his communicator vibrated with the bridge crew shouting various things through Kirk's communicator.

"Your combined pitch is causing a physical disturbance in my communicator," Spock said from a few feet away. "I will beam down shortly. Spock out."

*

Spock arrived in the center of the restaurant, which was 100% Enterprise crew. Once he was recognized, the crew burst into applause and whistles. Kirk stood up from the senior officers' booth and waved him over, grinning manically with the rest.

"Gentlemen; Lieutenant," Spock said in acknowledgement before sitting down at the edge of the booth across from Kirk. It was a tight fit and Chekov forfeited his seat to Spock, relocating to a nearby table with much younger officers.

"You had fun last night, or so everyone on the crew thinks," Uhura remarked in what Spock thought was an atypically sly manner. "What time did you boys get in?"

"Way past curfew, Mom, but as you can see, Spock's alive to tell the tale," Kirk replied. "Go on, tell them about the pregnant woman we saved in the bathroom."

"Actually, I'd like to hear more about the emergency tracheotomy you performed on the six-year-old using only a genetically altered Rigellian cherry stem and broken beer bottle," McCoy interrupted.

"Or the intergalactic war you stopped using only your hair," Sulu said.

"Maybe we should just skip to when Spock traveled back in time and stopped Adam and Eve from being kicked out of the garden," Kirk said.

A waitress approached and Spock looked up at her, held up one finger, and said, "One coffee. Very strong. Very large. Please. Thank you."

*

"So what _did_ you and the captain do last night?" Uhura asked. Evadne II was less disgusting in the light of its two suns, so Spock and Uhura walked along its shopping district, arms brushing against each other as often as they dared. "I thought you would come by after your shift."

"I did not plan on beaming down to the planet, but Jim had not checked in for quite some time. I had to ensure he was not dead or worse."

"Or worse?" She thought for a moment and agreed it was possible. "So tell me what you did!" she said with a playful nudge into his side which no one could mistake for anything but camaraderie.

"You know very well what the captain is like when he is intoxicated."

"Yeah, but I want to know what he's like when he's intoxicated _with you_."

"To be accurate, I was far more inebriated than Jim. He is much better at holding his liquor than I am."

"It was his high school concentration," Uhura replied. "You're avoiding the question, Spock."

Perhaps. "He was very attentive. He beamed me back to the ship and injected me with a vitamin cocktail to counteract the effects of the alcohol."

"Wow," Uhura said. "Doesn't sound like him."

"No, I believe it does. In a way."

*

Hours later, Spock and Uhura encountered McCoy in an ice cream shop, which they agreed was out of the ordinary. Even more unusual, Kirk was no where to be found. When McCoy spotted them through the window, he rolled his eyes and motioned them to come inside, which they did.

"I've wanted ice cream for _months_. Since the day we got on the damn ship, I've been wanting some real ice cream, not the kind shit out by a computer onto a tray," he explained. Spock expressed his admiration for the sundae sitting in front of the doctor, roughly six inches high and covered in every topping one could name.

"We were surprised; we thought the captain would be here to help you share it."

McCoy shot Uhura a glare of pure fury and addressed Spock in a surprisingly casual tone.

"Jim's off with some nice Vegan girl he met last night before you showed up -- sealing the deal, as it were, that he set up before he had to beam your drunk ass back to the ship."

"That sounds more like the captain," Uhura said brightly.

"I was not aware he had other plans before I arrived," Spock said.

"Well, if it's any consolation, he told me he forgot about his other plans when you _did_ arrive." McCoy raised one eyebrow and then dug into his sundae.

*

"Spock! It is fucking _beautiful_ planetside and you're sitting in my chair. What the hell are you doing? Besides sitting in my chair."

Spock looked up at Jim, who was standing next to him holding a bag. He wondered how he had not heard him approach since his walk was extremely distinctive.

"You're not working, are you?"

"This is my last assigned shift -- you may consult the roster, if you wish."

"I direct order you to report to the planet and do something amusing," Kirk said in what Spock had to admit was an excellent commanding voice. "Also, I got you a present."

"What?"

"A gift, Spock. Hold out your hand."

Spock informed him that he knew what a _present_ was, held out his hand, and raised an eyebrow when Kirk placed a pink shot glass in the palm of his hand.

"Pink, Jim?"

"Yeah -- don't you remember? You _loved_ the Malurian Mango -- a little effeminate for me, but I'm not about to judge. Now get out of my chair and go do something you can tell your grandchildren about."

*

When Kirk's last shift of the week finished, he entered the lift with a wave goodbye to the replacement bridge staff, took the lift to his living quarters, and danced down the corridor to his room.

He danced right past the rec room where he and Spock usually played chess, and didn't notice Spock rise from his game, stand in the corridor, and watch him travel down to his door with his eyes tightly closed and humming a melody the first officer was unfamiliar with.

"Captain, are you experiencing some kind of physical or mental break?" Spock asked.

"Spock, it is _completely logical_ for me to dance after my last shift on the bridge for two whole days, so don't even _try_ to make me think it's not."

"I intended it as a frivolous comment upon your manner of dance."

"Spock, I am going to rock my body right and you can't stop me."

"I am fairly sure I could --"

"Yeah, your shoulder pinch is pretty sneaky like that."

"-- but I would not want to. Not at the moment, at least. Perhaps later when you become more unwieldy."

"Oh? COMPUTER, OPEN YOUR FINE SELF."

"...that is the verbal command you programmed your door to open on?" Spock asked in disbelief. Kirk watched him approach the door slowly and stare at the sliding mechanism, like a cat exploring something new.

"I change it every few days based on my mood. Yesterday it was, 'come on baby, don't be like that, let some sugar into your heart'." Kirk took off his shirt and threw it on a chair, then rifled through his closet for something appropriate to wear to his half-formed plans and where ever they would lead. "That should shed some light on why I just slept on your bed last night -- don't think I could have managed the precise wording and stroking so late at night."

"It seems illogical to program your living quarters in such a needlessly complex fashion."

"It's _totally_ fucking illogical, Spock, and impractical, inefficient, unprofessional, probably violating a few sexual harassment regulations -- but it amuses me." Kirk smiled, pulled a shirt on over his head, and shrugged.

*

Uhura left the transporter room holding her extremely high heels in one hand and a small purse in the other. She walked barefoot down the corridor, still feeling the warmth of the dance club she and several other crew members had found that night. Her pleasant buzz was interrupted by a hooting noise (_sort of_ like laughter) from somewhere. It took her a moment to orient herself and the direction of the noise -- the captain's quarters. Of _course_.

Curiosity got the better of her and she knocked gently on the door.

"Come on in!"

Kirk was on his bed, sprawled out on his stomach, pressing a thin screen in his hands furiously. Uhura raised her eyebrows when she saw Spock leaning against the headboard, legs out and crossed at the ankles, a screen also in his hands. He looked up and the corners of his mouth twitched at her presence.

"It's almost first dawn," Uhura remarked. "What you both doing awake? And _here_?"

"We _were_ playing chess... like... nine hours ago," Kirk remarked. "Then... how the hell did the diagnostics glitch come up?"

"You remarked that my capture of your queen using only a pawn was a 'glitch' in your programming, which led to the diagnostics I was running during my shift today and the simulation error that Mr. Scott appears to have caused with his endless tinkering."

"Scotty's a genius, he can tinker all he wants while we're off duty."

"I agree on his vast intelligence and ingenuity, but it is disconcerting when he has effectively left the ship for two days and sending the Enterprise into warp leaves an ion cloud shaped like a bottle of whiskey on our monitors."

"That's your glitch?" Uhura asked, something like incredulity in her voice. "Anyway, I heard you laughing."

"Nyota, he is _always_ laughing."

Something about that made Kirk flip onto his back to look at Spock, while Uhura stared at both of them and the look they were exchanging. Uhura couldn't see Kirk's expression, but saw Spock's, which was as amused and quizzical as she had ever seen it.

"So does that mean I can finally admit I know what her name is? Oh, oh," he looked over his shoulder, his body still facing Spock. "Does that mean _we're_ on a first name basis?"

"I _prefer_ Uhura, and I think I'll leave you two alone to... finish your game."

"Good _night_, Uhura," Kirk said in a sing-song voice.

"Good night, Nyota," Spock added.

He didn't get up to follow her. She quietly padded down the hall, then stopped and listened when they began to talk again. She hesitated, but took a step backwards in order to hear them more effectively, bending down to adjust her stockings.

"--step over a line or anything, but shouldn't you go after her? Not that she ran away or anything, but -- you know what I mean. Women like that sort of thing. Appearing when they think they least need you and most want you."

"It would be illogical. As Nyota said -- it is nearly first dawn and she appears to have been dancing on the planet. My presence would only interfere with her rest from the evening."

"Spock, the last thing a woman wants to do after a night of dancing with her girlfriends is get a good night's sleep in her room _alone_."

"You are quick to assume she was accompanied only by female personnel. Even if that is the case, I am sure she would not be so illogical as to disregard the presence of males of potential interest on the planet when I am here and she is free to do as she would."

"She wouldn't _do that_, Spock, she's crazy about you. You're the only pointy-eared bastard she'd let kiss her boots."

"I must inform you of something shocking, Jim. Pointed ears are a dominant trait in humanoid species. Only Earth and a handful of planets contain humanoid species with rounded ears such as yours."

"Luckily, you joined Starfleet, which is chock full of our round ears. Did you find that article on the new chip component we've haven't been able to find for about three hours?"

"As I have said half a dozen times before -- check your received items, where you will find as many copies of the article in question."

"Ah. Thanks, Spock. If..."

Uhura went to her room.

*

Hours later, Uhura had woken up, changed, and headed down to the planet for breakfast or lunch -- she hadn't quite decided yet. She walked down the main street of Evadne II's restaurant sector, deciding to find the tiny breakfast place she had noticed on her walk with Spock the day before.

Eventually, she found it, along with Spock and the captain. Kirk looked up from his breakfast mess and tapped urgently on the window, motioning her to come inside.

"What _is_ that you're eating?" she asked as she pulled up a chair and positioned it close to Spock.

"Steak omelette. Don't let Spock tell me where they got the meat from."

"Isn't the mark of an omelette... organization? A bunch of ingredients wrapped in an egg?"

Kirk looked at Spock and motioned to the mess with his fork. "Does she -- have we met?"

"She remains optimistic, something I can no longer do."

"What are you having?" Uhura asked Spock.

"Spinach and five cheese omelette, which for some reason takes longer to prepare than the slaughter of a--"

"SO HOW'D YOU SLEEP, UHURA?" Kirk yelled, covering one ear with his hand and clanking his fork around on the plate.

"Fine -- aren't you two sick of each other yet?"

"_That_ was blunt." Kirk raised his eyebrows at Spock and shrugged. "We were just talking about our specialties at the Academy."

"I mentioned briefly to Jim that you are the only human I have met to come close in pronouncing my Vulcan patronymic," Spock said. "Would you like to demonstrate?"

She did, and Kirk slammed down his fork on his plate.

"Damn, you Vulcan-talking bitches! That sound creeps me out _so much_! I can't even _tell you_! It's not _human_!"

"Precisely."

"In less or equally terrifying news," Uhura raised her eyebrows at how quickly he shifted from furious to coy. "-- Spock found a beach," Kirk told Uhura.

"It's not new to anyone else," Uhura said. "Chekov and Sulu, and I think Scotty, have been there since we docked. Along with those 500 other people you're in charge of, Captain."

"That's where the party's been? Why haven't I been informed? Commander, this is your _job_."

"If you will recall your statement of 20 seconds ago, I _did_ inform you of the fact."

"Uhura! Did you know," Kirk chewed slowly and looked at Spock as he spoke, "That Spock can't swim?"

"Of course he can't -- Vulcan's climate --"

"You're going there, too? Really? I'm _saying_ that we need to fix this."

"I agree," Uhura said.

"You do?" Spock asked.

"Then it's set."

*

"Spock, you're not being logical."

"I fail to see --"

"For fuck's sake, you've been shot, stabbed, phasered, mindfucked, pregnant for all I know, and you won't _trust me_ in four feet of _water_? What's that say about our working relationship?"

"The sensation of floating is one I am unfamiliar with due to our technology having eliminated weightlessness in space travel. My position as science officer does not require my unharnessed presence outside the ship; therefore, as in every other situation we have ever encountered together, I am adjusting slowly to this experience in order to --"

"Just pick up his feet," Uhura said.

"Please don't," Spock pleaded with more urgency than either of them had heard before.

"No, I wouldn't do that," Kirk said. "My stepdad tried that shit to teach me and hey, let's not go there, huh? I'm also not going to _throw_ him."

The three of them were in a secluded area of the beach where the water was at chest height. Kirk and Uhura had their arms crossed over their chests while Spock half-floated in the water, two feet on the ocean floor.

"Wait, wait, we've got one leg up, repeat, _one leg up_."

Spock looked to be close to hyperventilation at his comments, so Kirk shut up.

"The sensation -- it is a complete lack of control, which I am not accustomed to."

"That's when your arms come in -- once you've got both legs straight out, you use your arms and legs to control where you're going. Why don't you try that? Just pick your other leg up and start pushing yourself around. We'll stand back and let you do your thing."

And that worked.

*

"Okay, ready for swimming underwater? You'll like this -- what you're going to do is jump up and _into_ the water, and cut through it with your hands like this." Kirk made right angles of his hands. "And your feet are going to kick and propel you down -- just don't kick Uhura in the face."

"That sounds manageable. The swimming, rather than kicking you in the face, Nyota."

"Hey, co-teacher, got any tips on this or are you just going to watch him drown?"

She smiled slightly (a little tensely, Kirk thought) and tilted her head. "Watching's fine -- you're doing a great job."

"All right, so take a deep breath and try to stay as close to the bottom as you can -- bonus points if you bring your legs down with you. I'll go with you, okay? See if you can mimic what I do."

"One question. Why are you grinning, Jim?"

"You're _learning_ something. I've never seen that before. On you, I mean. You already know _everything_, so it's... something new. Anything else?"

"No, I am quite prepared."

Kirk dove under first and swam to the bottom, then swam a tight circle so he could see Spock dive in --

And smash directly into his face.

They both rose to the surface shouting -- or Kirk shouted enough for both of them while Spock suffered quietly.

"What happened?" Uhura asked, wading through the water to them.

"He dove into my face."

"And yet one of your feet managed to hit the bridge of my nose," Spock said nasally as he gripped the bridge tightly. "Is there blood?"

"Ugh, look Spock, just dive under and I'll watch from _over here_, okay? Sound good?"

"You will have to give me a few moments' recovery time. Nothing seems to be broken. Is McCoy on the other side of the beach?"

"Shut up and move your hand, I've almost broken my nose plenty of times. Move your _hand_."

"I'm going over to the other beach -- if I see McCoy, I'll send him over, okay?"

"Thanks, Uhura," Kirk said distractedly as he felt Spock's nose with his fingers.

*

She walked along the shore and when she reached the part of the beach with some of the crew, she was waved over by several groups. Eventually, she made her way over to Chekov and McCoy, who were joined by Sulu and Scotty.

"I came to you guys first because you're the only ones with beer," she said, motioning to the bottles in each of their hands. Chekov hoisted the cooler to the surface of the water ("the best way to keep them safe," he assured her) and opened the lid for her.

"Is that the captain you were just with? And _Spock_?" Sulu asked.

"Yup," she replied after an initial gulp of beer that astonished those with her. "He's teaching Spock how to swim."

"...sorry, what?" Scotty asked. He looked at his bottle and inside it for clarification.

"Got a little dull," she explained. "Kirk's a good teacher all by himself."

"I also do not know how to swim," Chekov informed her, blushing too much to be telling the truth. "Perhaps --"

Uhura shot him a look, which he hid from in his beer bottle.

"At least they're not choking each other on the console anymore," McCoy mused. "Jim loves a new project. You'll be back in when he gets bored."

"Back in _what_?" she asked sharply.

McCoy, the other half of Team Bluntly Inappropriate, took a drink from his beer and shrugged. "Was _I_ saying something? I don't think so. Doesn't sound like something I'd do... talking..."

Uhura finished her beer, grabbed another from the cooler in the ensign's hands, and swam away from the group as suddenly as she had arrived.

"One drink -- Spock doesn't get any tonight," Sulu said when she was _well_ out of earshot.

"I don't think Spock's gotten any this whole shore leave," McCoy commented. "Lots of handholding when I saw them yesterday, but he's been plastered on Jim like a baby duck to its mother."

Four heads turned slowly to look at the abandoned part of the beach where they had seen Kirk and Spock. They were standing in front of each other in the water, Spock fashioning his own wet hair into spikes while Kirk laughed.

"As Chief Medical Officer," McCoy began, "I declare an intervention. Chekov, hand over the cooler. We're going in."

*

"I smell mangoes," Kirk said randomly.

"They are native to this area of the planet," Spock said as he flattened his hair again. "This water in my ear bothers me."

"Yeah, it'll come out when you're sleeping later -- Bones! And everyone! Where've you been hiding yourself?"

"I was just wondering the same about you," McCoy said. He managed to balance the cooler on one of his arms and drink from his open bottle in the other hand. Kirk pulled out two bottles and handed one to Spock, who took it warily.

"Uhura said you were learning to swim, Spock?" Sulu asked.

"Yes, I believe I have the rudimentary skills mastered and now it is only a matter of practice."

"I haven't seen you all week but tonight -- tonight," McCoy began, drawing himself up dramatically to address Jim. "Tonight we're going to Club... unpronounceable, not that I could read when I found it. Jim, the male to female ratio will make your balls weep with joy."

"Doctor, your metaphors never cease to amaze me," Spock said.

"Bones, that sounds brilliant. Beyond brilliant. Amazing, even."

"One catch."

"They're secretly men?"

"Are they?" Chekov asked, terrified. "I was there with you--"

"They're not _men_. It's a dance club."

"That hardly seems a 'catch', if by 'catch' you mean something that may cause the captain to refuse to attend, and dancing is --," Spock said.

Kirk shoved Spock hard enough to push anyone into the water, but Spock didn't budge. "What the fuck," he demanded. They stared at each other for a moment, Kirk looking perplexed and Spock collected (as usual), until Kirk threw himself at his first officer and dragged them both underwater. The other four men looked on and bet quietly (McCoy and Sulu won).

*

"I don't need to teach you how to dance, Spock, do I?" Kirk asked when the bridge crew entered the club that evening.

"I'll take care of that," Uhura assured him.

"We had dancing on Vulcan, thank you both. However, Jim, she is quite right -- this is an area more of her expertise than yours."

"Thank fuck Vulcan was good for something. Bones! To the bar!"

"I missed you," Uhura said when they had left her and Spock alone. "I think you've spent more time these three days with Kirk than with me."

"I did not mean to neglect you," he said assuringly. "The captain is fascinating when I do not have to worry about how his juvenile behavior will end in our fiery deaths. More significantly, understanding him in this context will allow for a better..."

Uhura pulled him in close and kissed him deeply. She wore her highest, thinnest heels, which allowed her frame to move more freely -- Spock tightened an arm around her waist and bent her backwards slightly, his other hand high on her back, until they broke apart and breathed deeply. Uhura opened her eyes, but Spock's were still closed.

"Ready to dance?"

"I am ready to enjoy your presence and everything you do tonight." His eyes opened slowly and the lids seemed too heavy to stay open of their own volition, almost intoxicated by her.

"So... dancing?"

"At least."

*

Kirk saw Spock surface from the center of the dance floor and gravitate towards him and McCoy.

"You and Uhura looked great out there," Kirk yelled over the music, though he hadn't actually left the bar since they arrived.

"That is only logical -- she is exceptionally good at dancing."

"How do Vulcans justify dancing?"

"As a technique towards propagating the species."

"Spock, how do you manage to make everything wonderful... not that?" McCoy asked over Kirk's shoulder.

"That is simply the biological imperative behind dance," Spock answered calmly.

"This round's on me," Kirk told the bartender, handing his card over the counter. He and Spock held out their drinks while McCoy came around Jim's side and held his own drink in to toast. "Gentlemen, to propagating and engendering -- but not literally, as I need my goddamn communications officer, Spock."

Kirk saw one of Spock's eyebrows tick upwards as they clinked their glasses together. They drank and Spock disappeared into the crowd again, a bottle over his head for Uhura.

"Bones, it's going to kill me when shore leave is over," Kirk announced. "Going back to that Spock with the whole damn manual up his ass ready to spit it out at me every time I pick my nose; sitting behind me making jokes with Uhura about my hair; trying to become a Vulcan martyr every fucking week --"

"Shut up, Jim, you love it."

"I do not!"

"You do, too. Spock and I are like your bossy den mothers telling you to eat your vegetables before your father spanks you."

"Wow, now _I'm_ not drunk enough for this conversation."

"_Metaphorically speaking_," McCoy groaned.

A young humanoid woman wandered by and Kirk leaned by her ear. In the few seconds she was passing by, he had managed to stop her and convince her to dance, leaving McCoy to pick up his next round.

*

Kirk was almost a foot taller than his dance partner -- something he didn't notice until his eyes began to wander unimpeded around the floor, not looking for anything in particular but knowing -- and then he spotted them.

Uhura was wearing red. Being on shore leave required that all personnel wear their regulation civilian-esque outfits, but Kirk being Kirk had allowed dress code to slide. He himself wore his usual charcoal uniform pants and the regulation form-fitting black t-shirt, his captain's colors somewhere on the floor of his quarters. Uhura was wearing those same regulation pants and a red t-shirt with the Starfleet logo near her collarbone. The red was set off and almost blinding against her skin, her pants, her hair, the dimness of the club, the lights flashing over the crowd, the glimpses of color that others around her were wearing.

But Kirk had to look down at his dance partner and run a hand down her neck and the side of her body, grip her hips tightly and pull them towards him, all to give him something to focus on instead of Spock.

Spock, that... _Spock_ had decided, as soon as Kirk had finished admiring Uhura, to take off _his_ uniform blue t-shirt, leaving him in the same pants as everyone else and that same black t-shirt Kirk wore. Even if Kirk had seen him shirtless earlier that day at the beach, the Spock he was seeing at that moment was not the same _at all_. That Vulcan hyperawareness and intensity was completely tuned into Uhura and every move she made. He anticipated her every step, gyration, shift of her hips, slip of her arms, and responded according to the rhythm they had set between each other. He took the blue shirt, rested his face against hers, and pulled her closer by wrapping the shirt around her waist. She leaned back into him, an arm wrapped around his neck, her face with a far gone expression, like that shirt was the most erotic object in the known universe.

Kirk turned his partner around roughly and crouched slightly to allow more contact between them. He focused on her stiff platinum hair, the sparkles scattered on her skin, the movement of her breasts (slightly off the music's tempo), and ran his hands all over her skintight white dress. Yet for all that, for all his staring into the woman's face and eyes and focusing on every stimulus her body registered on his, he could _not_ get his friends, his crewmates, out of his fucking mind or line of vision.

He couldn't! Kirk kicked himself but fuck, he _couldn't stop thinking_. Spock's eyes were closed as he danced with Uhura, and Kirk felt a tremendous jealousy at how lost in the moment he -- the both of them -- seemed. When was the last time he had forgotten himself like that?

Day one on the Enterprise. New uniform, injuries healed, medal tucked away in his room, sitting in _his fucking chair_ on _his fucking ship_ heading towards _their first mission_. Five minutes later, McCoy was tapping him on the shoulder for lunch, then dinner, then _dammit, Jim, you get to bed before I call your mother to pick you up_.

Kirk groaned and moved his mouth to his partner's jawline in an attempt to hide his face, but Uhura noticed him anyway and was bringing Spock over. Spock was now too cool for existence and had his blue shirt around his neck like a towel.

"I love this song!" Uhura yelled at him. She looked at Kirk's sparkle-clad woman and offered a hand. "Uhura! This is Spock!"

"Arin!" Arin, apparently, looked at Kirk, who formally introduced himself. Uhura shot him a look, that fucking smug _look_ in which she knew all the rumors she had ever heard about what a sleazeball he was to women were suddenly _true_.

His eyes darted to Spock, who had his hands firmly on Uhura's hips and looked at Kirk almost expectantly. After no conversation, Kirk twirled his partner around and resumed dancing with her, forcing Spock and Uhura away again. They didn't seem to mind.

"How do you know them!" Arin shrieked near his ear.

"OW. I'm their _captain_. USS Enterprise!"

"Wow, _captain_! That's _hot_!"

Kirk shrugged in agreement and kissed her so as to avoid more small talk. Her eyes flew shut and he watched her leg lift slightly behind her, practically swooning into him (he _could not_ understand why, he wasn't even _trying_ tonight). He looked over at Spock and Uhura to see if they were amused, but they were too enthralled with each other to notice. That shouldn't have been shocking to him, but it was.

"Wanna get out of here!" Kirk yelled as he broke the kiss. He yelled into her _face_, imagining his breath probably reeked of his drinks with McCoy and that omelette he had earlier, but she nodded coyly anyway. Kirk tried not to question it and allowed himself to be led out of the crowd and the club.


	3. Denouement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion to the [Communication](http://screamlet.livejournal.com/tag/series:+communication) series. Detailing the Enterprise's first shore leave.

"Don't, Spock."

"Nyota --"

"_Spock_."

"You would do the same," he said. Uhura sat up against her bed's headboard and watched him answer the communicator. "Spock here."

"Hey, buddy, hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Uhura glared at Spock and the communicator until he turned away from her.

"Do you require something in particular, Jim?"

"Well, I don't want to intrude or anything but -- I've been kidnapped. Nothing major yet, just some light torture, the usual."

"Have your captors mentioned what they require for your release?"

"Spock, I'm glad you asked! Don't worry, I can hear the shaking in your voice -- I'm okay, I promise, they're taking good care of me."

"Captain, I assure -- were you just slapped?"

Spock heard Kirk groan before answering, "I already told her that she can hit me all she wants; I can take it after the beatings you've handed me, right?" Spock's lips tightened and Kirk spoke again. "Anyway, we're dealing with Dramians, kind of upset after who cares what -- hey, lady? _Arin_, was it, you lying _bitch_? I can't finish telling my first officer your demands if you keep slapping me, okay? Let's work together here."

Uhura had stood up a few seconds after Kirk mentioned the 'light torture' and, having dressed, left the room quickly. Spock put the communicator on her bed, dressed himself, and exited her room with the communicator directly at his ear in a completely superfluous manner.

"Spock? You there?"

"Of course."

"Right, so my captors would like what _everyone_ who kidnaps a starship captain wants -- planetary codes and the locations of our bases in the Thalos system. You've got... how many was it? 12? 20? Oh, two. Two hours to not do any of that because they can go _fuck_ \--"

A harsh, heavily accented voice came over the communicator as Spock reached the Enterprise bridge and handed the communicator to Uhura. She pulled on her earpiece and began transcribing while Spock traced the origin of the transmission.

"They are blocking us -- weakly, but they are blocking our scanners," Spock said to himself.

"Commander, we have to leave the ship immediately," Uhura said. "They're --"

"I see that," Spock said. "There should not be more than the 40 essential personnel on board -- announce to all staff our evacuation and that no one is to attempt to beam on board the ship. I must retrieve something from my quarters. I will rendezvous with you in the transporter room."

"Spock, if anything happens to my goddamn ship, you're buying me a new Enterprise!" Kirk shouted out of the communicator as Spock picked it up again. "None of this Constellation or Intrepid bullshit, I want a new _Enterprise_!"

"Captain," Spock said patiently into his communicator, "Hostages are not required to give any information beyond their name, rank, and identification number."

"Oh, I'm telling them more than _that_, just not what they _wa_\--"

"Captain? Captain? _Jim?_" Spock stood with his communicator in the lift and attempted to find the signal again, but it proved useless. He stopped the lift's doors and told Uhura, "Inform Mr. Scott, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Sulu that they are to report to me outside of the establishment known as The Comet as soon as possible, and Mr. Scott is to bring at least a half-dozen members of the operations staff with him."

"Yes, sir," Uhura said, her eyes never wavering from her console.

*

"Leave it to Jim to be kidnapped on his first shore leave," McCoy groaned. The rendezvous point was a small park across the street from The Comet. Scotty brought the operations staff he had been drinking with, McCoy his flask, and Sulu a young science ensign named Janie, whose specialty was bioengineering and teasing the nape of Sulu's neck.

Spock monitored the Enterprise from a handheld screen and nodded to himself. "No one left on the ship. Gentlemen, ladies, thank you for --"

"Formalities later, Spock -- what do you want us to do?" McCoy asked.

"Your assistance will be required at a later point, doctor -- the captain informed me he was 'lightly tortured' before his signal was lost. You are also his friend and I know he would appreciate your presence on his return." He turned to Scotty and the operations crew. "The captain's captors--"

"Ha. Captain's captors."

"_Mr. Scott_. They not only have the captain, but I noted they have also been attempting to gain remote access to the ship. The captain informed me they are searching for information accessible only through a starship connected to Starfleet and it is only logical that they would also make some use of the physical ship, if possible."

"Mr. Spock! I thought you wanted something _difficult_! Me and six of my men for _that_?"

"I did not know how prepared for the task you would be at this time of night."

"It's the Enterprise, sir! I'd cut off an arm at Christmas if it would help her!"

"In which case, you may help me with my own project while your staff manages the ship's security integrity."

"Now we're getting somewhere interesting."

Spock led Scotty to a bench and unpacked a box full of parts, screwdrivers, bulbs, and a heavily modified communicator. "You know our communications system quite well, and you know its technical drawbacks as well as the captain and I do. The handset's interior is too easily disrupted by external influences while the mechanisms built into flight suits do not have all the capabilities of the hand held models."

"And you want me to help you turn this box of _crap_ into something that will not only work for talking, but also operate on a new frequency incapable of disruption by the jamming impulses, trace the captain's signal, and stop those bastards from taking our ship?"

"Within an hour, if possible." Spock pulled a monitor out of the box, activated its surface, and flipped it over to Scotty. "These are the plans and calculations so far. I will continue my work on the tracking function, but the frequency mechanism will need to be adapted from our current communicators. I would not ask you to build it from scratch at this hour."

"This is what you were talking about that night," Uhura realized. "In Kirk's room -- you were building new communicators?"

Spock held a flexible circuit board in his hand and searched in the box for the next piece. He heat-melded pieces to the board as he spoke to her. "While you and I were bent over our monitors translating and programming at the Academy, Jim specialized in tactical communications. He has worked in his spare time on a new model of our communicators since his first year at the Academy." Spock turned around and addressed Sulu. "Mr. Sulu, you will be needed once we have secured control of the Enterprise -- until then, please find Mr. Scott and myself some artificial light to work by. These streetlights are far too weak to be of any practical use."

"Aye, sir," he said as he ran off with his ensign. Uhura sifted through the box of parts, handing them to Spock and Scotty as they asked for them while monitoring transmissions through her earpiece.

"I know Kirk's specialty, Spock -- we were in the same year. We were almost friends, except that we hated each other," Uhura said during another lull in her earpiece's activity. "Sort of."

"I apologize for my presumption."

"You got all of this from _his_ quarters?" she asked.

Spock paused for a moment and looked into her face. "Yes. I had to enter the captain's quarters without his knowledge or consent. You may report me to him when he returns. However, I believe he will be more pleased than offended."

"Obviously, Spock -- you're saving his _life_."

"I meant pleased that in order to open his door, I had to speak the rather crude seductive phrase which he set as his passcode... in his own highly emotional inflection."

"Mr. Spock," Scotty began, "Could you hand me the heat-melder and confirm that you just admitted to _passionately_ expressing a desire to have sex with the captain's door?"

Spock handed over the heat-melder silently and bent over the communicator again.

*

Things came together. Spock and Scotty discovered that together, they had built a semi-functioning new communicator. Scotty's men had blocked the interception of the Enterprise and re-encrypted the most sensitive information on the ship's databases. Sulu was maneuvering the ship's orbit via the monitor they had brought down with them. McCoy was still awake and channeling the group's anxiety into well-meaning belligerence; eventually, he and Uhura began a game called "the next time I see that arrogant jackass, I will..."

"I can't fucking believe it," Scotty said. "The captain's signal's coming from... _the bar_?"

"_That_ one?" Uhura asked. "The one we've been sitting in front of for an hour and a half? There must be some mistake. Who would be that stupid?"

"At the moment, it is our only lead on the captain's location. We must, at least, investigate the possibility. Set phasers to stun."

*

"You just -- you pinched a puppy unconscious!" McCoy hissed as they entered the bar through the side entrance. "A helpless puppy!"

"Doctor, you will have to excuse me from doing what I must and ignoring you."

To McCoy's displeasure, Spock had to neck pinch one more person before they were able to ascend to the rooms above, where Kirk's signal emanated from. Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and two of Scotty's engineering staff slowly wound up the narrow staircase and froze when something heavy slammed into the corridor directly above them. They stopped breathing when slow, dragging footsteps approached them. Spock inhaled and ran up the final step, turned the corner, and entered the corridor.

"Jim," he exhaled when he saw Kirk leaning against a wall and holding his stomach.

*

"_Jim_. Are you injured?"

"Spock let me collapse first okay thanks," Kirk groaned. McCoy rushed up and shoved Spock aside to catch Kirk as he slid down against the wall. "Bones! Bones, you're _here_."

"Is this a _prank_?" Spock whispered. "Where are your captors?"

"Captors, Spock, ha," Kirk laughed weakly. "Who've you got with you? You and someone else can take them. They're Dramians, right, and in that third door at the end. The girl can't keep her human form anymore so they're both about seven feet tall and... crazy fingers. And _orange_."

"You're delirious, Jim," McCoy began, but Kirk laughed shortly.

"Wait, Spock, listen to me -- who else is with you?"

"Mr. Scott and two of his crewmen."

"Ooh, Scotty, get Scotty for this one. Scotty," Kirk whispered hoarsely down the stairs. Scotty came up, ready to shoot anything with his phaser, but burst into a grin when he saw the captain. "Hey, Scotty, got a drink on you? Or the bottle, at least?"

"Only always! But you don't look so well, captain."

"No, I need -- you're gonna go in that room I told Spock, right, with a bottle. You smash it and use it like a shiv, okay? Move quickly and go the right, and put the girl in a neckhold or something -- really threaten her, okay? Just remember she's seven feet tall so you've gotta be quick."

"Wouldn't a phaser be more efficient?" Spock asked.

"You have yours, but they're really... I'm feeling like shit..." He groaned again and added, "They're easily startled and slow to react, so if you've got a crazy motherfucker like _Scotty_ with his crazy eyes walking in... and the guy is barely functional without the girl, so go for her first."

"Yes, I understand. Mr. Scott, let us proceed. Have your men cover us."

As they left, McCoy sat against the wall and held Kirk in his arms, examining him up and down. The only outward sign of a struggle was the phaser burn across one of Kirk's thighs. "What'd they do to you, huh? What did I tell you about women in bars who want you that bad?"

"They only want my money and my soul and to destroy everything I ever loved. Really sensible, I should listen to you."

They heard a phaser blast and a small struggle in the room. Spock emerged several moments later, motioned for the engineers to enter, and walked quickly to where Kirk and Bones sat. Kirk hadn't noticed he had been holding his breath until Spock emerged again, at which point he was even more lightheaded.

"Hey," Kirk said. "You used your phaser, cheater. You disobeyed what might've been a direct order! Tactical advice! I knew what I was talking about!"

Spock ignored him and said, "You exited the room under your own power. How did you manage it? You were physically outmatched in every way."

"Uh, it really helped that they're completely stupid and the worst kidnappers ever," Kirk replied. "And you know me -- tie up my arms and legs and I'm totally useless, all I've got is my mouth."

"You talked yourself to freedom?"

"...little more than that."

"I knew it," McCoy said. He grabbed Jim's cheeks and forced his mouth open. "How badly did they rape you? You didn't consent sarcastically, did you? Harder to get a conviction that way, but --"

"What? No! Bones!" He pulled his head out of McCoy's grasp. "I wasn't raped! It's actually funny, I'll laugh later when I'm not going to die."

"Lieutenant Uhura, are the transporters ready?" Spock asked into the new communicator.

"Engineering reports they are at 90%; do you have the captain?"

"Yes -- we will be returning with the captain in a few moments. No casualties. Spock out." He looked attentively to Kirk again. "How did you get away from them?" His eye darted to the end of the hall. Kirk glanced over and confirmed the sound -- the engineers had beamed up with the kidnappers and soon it would be their turn.

"Right, they tied me up and phasered me a little, so all I could do was talk at them. Yelled at them, cursed at them, they were _so_ annoyed and finally I said hey, why don't you gag me, it'll be fun, I'll eat through that and keep talking at you assholes until you let me go."

"You're an idiot," McCoy said. "But congratulations -- you waited until your fourth day of shore leave to have your stomach pumped. I owe Sulu a drink. He thought you'd need the stomach pumping after getting into something crazier than just drinking."

"All for you, buddy." He looked at Spock and asked pitifully, "Can we go now? Is the ship okay? I smashed one of their communicators -- they got theirs to receive, transmit, _and_ block, did you notice? The design's better, too."

"The ship is fine, Jim. Doctor, will you be able to lift him?"

"You take him -- I need to get to sickbay first."

"Spock, I can walk, you don't -- okay, you're carrying me. I'm going to throw up on you, okay?"

"If you must."

*

Kirk slowly opened his eyes and yelled when he saw Spock and McCoy looking down at him, McCoy's head barely blocking the blinding overhead light.

"How many fingers do you see?" Spock asked, he and McCoy each holding up a hand.

"Five," he told Spock. McCoy was giving him the Vulcan salute, to which he replied, "Fuck you."

"He's getting there. Jim," McCoy said, leaning closer into Kirk's face and speaking with the gentlest bedside manner Kirk had ever heard. "Leave it to you to choke down the filthiest and most pathogen-laden object in the galaxy -- you've got some pretty nasty infections raging right now. I'm putting you into a short coma so you can avoid feeling the side effects of the drugs, okay? "

Kirk replied to that gentility by thrashing on the table and yelling, "A _short coma_? Who the fuck do you think you are?! Give me a hypo full of _plague_ and put my ass back on the bridge -- you think I can't handle flying through space with a _cold_, you've got another thing --"

"How the hell did those Dramians not kill you after five minutes of this crap?" McCoy held up a hypospray and Kirk quieted down. "Now, I've got a present for you, but it's going to cost you. I had to cut that half-chewed rag out of your stomach, so as a memento -- I can give you a nice, messy scar. How'd you like that?"

"Bones!" Kirk said with instant softness. "I'd love it! What do you want me to do? Is it shut up? Stick that hypo in me, I'm ready to be full of scars. Come on, do it, right now, just tape that shit together and--"

"Would you _shut up_? I'll do it, but you have to take an oath to me and Spock first."

"The fuck? What kind of oath?" Kirk looked at Spock and his remarkably placid face -- no, the right side of his face had almost shifted upwards, the raised eyebrow and the upwardly curved corner of his mouth. He was laughing, the motherfucker. "You better remember you're only _temporary_ captain, pal, while I'm in Bones' coma and I meant what I said! You break my ship, you buy me a whole fucking new one -- your dad's a fucking ambassador, you probably cry credits when the computers run out of pudding."

"I believe if you delay the injection for a few more moments, he may exhaust himself into that coma," Spock said to McCoy, but looking into Kirk's face.

"Jim, I want you to repeat after me. I, James Tiberius Kirk."

Kirk rolled his eyes and held up a hand. "I, James Tiberius Kirk -- yeah, my middle name's Tiberius, you pointy-eared bitch, laugh at it, _I dare you_."

"Jim! Eyes here! I promise not to pick up any more space whores."

"Bones," Kirk moaned, "If I don't pick up space whores, all that's left are diplomats' daughters and they only talk politics and _feelings_. What about space skanks?"

"No space skanks, either."

"Come on! Space tramps?"

"I am impressed at your use of assonance in this condition," Spock commented.

"Are you listening?!" Bones yelled with a rough hand on Kirk's shoulder. "You're a Starfleet captain now, you idiot! You're _worth_ something! That means you don't fuck _anything_ without an advanced degree and it has to be in something other than lap dances."

"I have to stick to _college graduates_? Are you fucking me, Bones?!"

"Jim! Promise us!"

"Fine! I fucking promise!"

"Good boy. Now you can have the hypo."

"Take care of my ship, Spock, or I'll fucking kill you."

"Enjoy your rest, Captain."

*

Uhura broke up with Spock the last day of shore leave. She felt ashamed that it had taken her weeks of deliberation, and that she had let him think everything was all right during shore leave. Her hesitation mostly related to how she knew without asking that she would be _the first_ \-- Spock would have women after her, but she would be the first to say, 'I don't want to be with you anymore'. All other break ups would be measured by hers, as would all other relationships -- something Uhura inferred because a man didn't go through Starfleet with an immaculate record, teach two classes, program notoriously complex exams, run his independent research, and become First Officer on a flagship while also spending his nights hacking notches into a metaphorical bedpost.

Those weeks she had spent deliberating were also spent in anguish over her lack of someone in her confidence. Someone completely out of the Enterprise loop, yet who had been there from the first time she had returned to her room _blushing_ after a phonology class. Yet there was no one: she could choose between her casual friends in other departments who loved to gossip or the boys' club on the bridge that wouldn't take Spock seriously after discovering he had been dumped.

"Mr. Spock," she said as they rose from their table in the mess after lunch. "I believe your shift has ended -- might I discuss a personal matter with you in your quarters?"

Sulu and Chekov had eaten with them and were now in her periphery, exchanging looks and biting their lips. Usually, she would have glared them out of the room, but that would tip Spock off if their _giggling_ hadn't already. Spock clearly nodded at Sulu and Chekov with a curt "Gentlemen" in their direction and then nodded assent to Uhura before leading the way to his quarters.

Once in his quarters, Uhura began to panic. It was too reminiscent of being a child caught passing old fashioned notes in class and staying behind afterwards to be disciplined. He sat at the desk and motioned for her to take the seat across from him, but she refused.

Her throat was dry and she had been quiet too long. Spock finally said, "You appear agitated."

"I am. I suppose I should just come out and say this." She swallowed and said, "I'm ending our romantic relationship."

He was shocked -- though not very. She saw it in his eyebrows that arched at the ends ever so slightly and a slow blink as his eyes looked away from her for a moment.

"I believe you would not come to that conclusion without thorough consideration of what is most logical with regard to our working relationship on the Enterprise and our individual personal growth."

She stared at him for a moment and nodded, then added, "Usually, people... talk about it."

"I presume in order to illuminate the particular character flaws which led to the deterioration of the relationship." She nodded again and watched him process his initial assessment. "That will not be necessary. It was only a matter of time before the specialized interests which drew us together in the particular context of Starfleet academia would prove too confining, particularly when coupled with the diverse interactions faced in our exploratory missions."

She looked into his face as he continued to calculate the correct words for the situation, completely unaware that there were _never_ correct words.

Rather than supply any for him, she was reminded of San Francisco. As the graduation she never had approached, she spent more and more time away from her roommate's one-on-one stress-fueled study groups, and more time at Spock's apartment in the city proper (she wasn't his student anymore, just an aide; it was probably only mildly unethical). They had run out for some last minute dinner ingredient and were caught in a brief sunshower. He smugly opened over them the umbrella she had chided him for bringing and kissed her there, in public, outside a grocery store, a head of garlic in one hand.

"I'll see you later, Spock."

"Yes, that would be likely. We will be leaving the Evadne system in two hours; I will be on the bridge during that time should you wish to discuss this or any other matter further after our departure."

"Aye, sir."

*

Kirk woke up and greeted Uhura by repeating her name half a dozen times in different tones and inflections.

"Captain, how are you feeling?"

"Uhura, I'm going to ask you a personal question. Don't have to answer. I guess. Where's a lieutenant on the pay scale? I need to fuck my way up it."

"_Jim_." McCoy's voice warned from the other end of the ward. Uhura turned around to look at McCoy for some kind of clarification (was one really necessary?) and then turned back to Kirk.

"How's the Enterprise?" he asked sleepily. "Spock drive her into a planet yet? Did we go back into the future where me and him were _tight_?"

"He's coming out of it slowly, so if he says something he shouldn't -- write it down and blackmail him later," McCoy said as he walked by on his rounds.

"The ship's fine," she told him. "Spock's doing a great job." She hesitated for a moment, then held his hand in something like a comforting manner.

"He's so _nice_. You're nice, too. We're so _nice_."

She tried not to laugh as he spoke, biting her lip and looking at a spot above his eyes to keep a straight face. "Are you feeling better?"

"Uhura, I'm the happiest fucking fuck who ever... is shore leave over? Did I miss shore leave?"

"We left the Evadne system yesterday. You've been asleep three days, almost four."

"Man... that _sucks_. Did you and Spock dance some more before you left? You two are _great_, like a _team_ of... _great_."

She gave him a little smile and squeezed his hand. "No use keeping it a secret from you, huh? We -- ended things. Between us."

"Oh no," Kirk moaned. "But he's so. Spock. And you're so. Spock." She laughed out loud and Kirk grinned, too. "His name is _fun_. But why! Did he dump you? Is it because he's in love with me? You all are, every single one of you, and know what? I love all of you, too. Even Chekov. He's foxy like a duck." Kirk nodded to himself and Uhura watched his face: saw him remember, somehow, what he had been saying. "But why not _Spock_? You're both so... did _you_ know Spock likes pudding? Did you not like pudding? Did you not like _his_ pudding?"

She laughed some more and continued to hold his hand, thinking about how to respond (not that it mattered, she reflected, as he wouldn't make sense of it anyway). "We were kind of together out of habit. It wasn't fair to either of us."

"That's so _logical_," Kirk said. "I bet he liked it. Best break up ever. 100%. I'd go again. Thumbs up, way up." He yawned and said, "I'm going on my side now, okay? You tell Spock the thing. About the ship. You break it, you buy it."

"Off your side, princess, you've gotta stay on your back if you want to be healed by medieval medicine," McCoy said as he walked by. Kirk was asleep again and he gently grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him onto his back. "And he's out. Thanks for stopping by."

"He's ready to get back in the chair -- I really didn't notice a difference between this Kirk and the one we usually have barking orders on the bridge."

Uhura interpreted the noise McCoy made as a laugh and left for her quarters.

*

"Nurse, how's our happiest patient doing?" McCoy asked as he entered the ward after lunch.

"Mr. Spock is there with him. He's much more lucid today."

"Oh good, _lucid_. Code word for 'asshole', I'm sure," he muttered as he walked towards Kirk's bed where Spock had pulled a chair close. They were speaking animatedly over a monitor Kirk held. "Mr. Spock, how is he?"

"I'm fucking _fine_, Bones, just wondering how much longer you're going to keep me in your chamber of miracles here," Kirk snapped as he put the monitor down in his lap.

"His hostility towards you appears to have returned to its pre-coma level," Spock said.

"And it's not going away until I'm back in my goddamn chair on the goddamn bridge!"

"We'll see about that," McCoy replied coolly as he walked away.

"That's not a prognosis, Bones! I want some answers!"

McCoy was surprised to have reached his office at the end of the ward without hearing Kirk's screaming. He peeked his head out and saw Kirk's attention occupied by Spock and the monitor again. He noticed that Kirk wasn't yelling at Spock, either -- they appeared to be _discussing_ something. He wasn't going to ask questions if it kept Kirk's voice down to a pitch that didn't resemble a killer whale's screech.

*

"The main problem I encountered with your prototype of the communicator was the material of the main board -- a flexible one, which is the solution we have seen work in the flight suit model, but this particular material cannot withstand the elements you noted in your field research."

"Fuck, tell me about it. These bits were from a fucking project fair; I bought them off the kid in my Theory of Combat class who developed them." Kirk paused and looked at Spock's expression; it was getting easier to read him and this looked like -- shock? "You okay?"

"You must excuse me -- I cannot believe your life depended on a cadet's class project."

"Yeah, so? Things worked out."

"They may not in the future."

"And that's why we're going to work on this."

"Captain, you _cannot_ continue to rely on sheer dumb luck to save your life. It is illogical and extremely dangerous, not only for yourself but the entire crew."

"Hey, _none_ of that was luck. The lucky part was my captors being rejects from espionage training camp. Everything else? All us! You evacuated the ship, rounded up the engineers, kept the ship safe, built a prototype out of _nothing_, and I was an obnoxious asshole until they got sick of me. All of that was _work_, not luck." Kirk ran his fingers over the monitor, scrolling through designs and calculations effortlessly without reading or absorbing the information. "The odds were bad, the situation absurd, but we did our best. We can't do more than that."

"Then we must endeavor to make our 'best' better."

"Now that I can get behind." Kirk grinned. "Look at us, agreeing on shit while we're _sober_. I love progress."

*

"Jim, it's time. You're free to go."

"Oh, Bones, I'm not sure if I'm..." Kirk huddled under the blanket of his bed in sickbay, his eyes peeking out as he mumbled. "I think I've... what do I _do_ as captain again?"

McCoy stared for a moment, and then Kirk threw off the blanket and leapt out of bed, fully dressed (boots and all).

"Ha! James T. Kirk is _out_."

"Who the hell brought you your uniform?! How'd you even get dressed without my noticing? I can classify this as a security breach, you know!"

"Yeah, file it with _me_, and I'll file it in my _pants_."

Spock was waiting at the door of the ward and McCoy pointed a finger at him. "You did this."

"I saw no harm in bringing him his clothes prior to his release," Spock said calmly. "It would be unseemly for the captain to be seen exploring the corridors in his hospital garb."

"How'd you get in my room, anyway?" Kirk asked as they left. He turned around and waved to Bones, who glared lovingly at them. "Oh! Scotty did that thing? Dual codes for my door?"

"Yes; I used my patronymic, not that it would be much use to you should you forget your own inefficient one."

"But doesn't Uhura know that? Or can't she say it? Or something? That noise, she did it."

"You are not a native speaker of Vulcan; you would not be able to hear the difference between my formal, high Vulcan and the heavily Standard-influenced Vulcan taught by Starfleet."

"Do I get one for your room, too?"

"You have override codes."

"That's so _impersonal_."

"Then I will speak to Mr. Scott."

"I'd knock, you know."

"I would hope so."

*

"I can't look at this thing anymore tonight," Kirk sighed, pushing the prototype away. "Or for a few days -- we can keep melding components onto this weak board, but we're just building great stuff on crap, you know? I'm pretty sure the material we need for the main circuit board doesn't exist yet." He slumped down in the chair in Spock's quarters, eyes occasionally looking over to Spock, who was quiet even by his standards.

"Hey? Something up? That was your cue to bring up some article you read a trillion years ago with the answer we're looking for."

"If that work exists, I have not read it."

"Something on your mind, then? You can talk to me!"

Spock's hands gripped the armrests of his chair as he looked at Kirk. "I am... frustrated. And angry. I do not see the use in discussion. The ideal catharsis would be physical activity, but Mr. Sulu is teaching fencing in the gymnasium for at least two more hours."

"Is it about Uhura?"

Spock raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded. "And humans in general."

"Shit, what did we do to Vulcans _this time_?"

"May I speak candidly? Privately? It regards an extremely sensitive matter, and -- I must to speak to my friend Jim, not Captain Kirk."

Kirk groaned quietly -- the way Spock had said 'friend' echoed in his mind and he heard the older Spock in the cave calling him _my old friend_ and that line, that perfectly crafted in Standard line he used on him: _I have been, and always shall be, your friend_. Fuck, why couldn't he stop _hearing that_ in his _head_?

"Anything, Spock. You can trust me." Kirk sat up in the chair with his eyes trained on Spock's face.

"Nyota informed me that she mentioned the end of our romantic relationship to you during your drug-induced delirium."

"Yeah -- I kinda remember that -- sorry I didn't let on -- figure you'd talk about it if you wanted --"

"A logical conclusion, and one that has come to fruition." Spock paused and said, finally, "The more I reflect on my relationship with Nyota, the angrier I become. Not because it is over, but because _I_ should have ended it sooner."

That was news to Kirk, who sat up straighter and raised his eyebrows at Spock. "I don't get it -- on shore leave, hell, on the ship all these months, you guys were so -- so right."

Spock's eyes were locked on some distant point as he answered. "It was very comfortable to remain with her, but she -- was incredibly selfish." Kirk opened his mouth to spit out something incredulous, but managed to hold back. "Not emotionally, and not intellectually, but physically. Intimately."

"Uh, you've... I don't want to seem intrusive or anything, but... I need details? Like did she not suck you off often enough?"

At that, Spock appeared offended for a split-second. "And you are the same way, Jim -- I am beginning to believe it is a fault of the species."

"Hey, hold on, I'm -- you're right, that's a _human_ leap to make and I'm sorry, but you need to tell me what -- fuck." Kirk paused to consider what he said to Spock before he unintentionally drove him away. "I don't think I know what your Vulcan standards for _intimacy_ are. It's not something they cover at the Academy."

Spock adjusted his sitting position on the chair and leaned in closer across the table towards Kirk. "Physically, she treated me as a human, and I am distinctly _not_ completely human. I am biologically half Vulcan, I was raised as a Vulcan, my mind is thoroughly Vulcan. Yet she expected me to be satisfied as a human would be." Kirk would have choked him for one fucking concrete example, but Spock thankfully got around to it. "We are _touch telepaths_. You have experienced a mind meld and you are aware of what that means -- to have two separate, distinct intellects inhabit the same space. I tried to show her _repeatedly_ that the same could be done with the body -- with touch -- and _that_ would be infinitely more stimulating to my overall biology."

"And she wouldn't have it."

"She would _tolerate_ what I had to offer, but not appreciate it for what it was -- to have not only a half-dozen inches below the waist, but _the entire body_ as an erogenous zone."

Kirk chewed on the inside of his bottom lip before asking: "Here's the thing -- did you think maybe it was a limitation of _our_ biology? That _we_ can't appreciate that the way you can?"

"Telepathy, Jim, is reciprocal -- and simple enough even for a human to experience and participate in." Spock hesitated and Kirk heard him exhale, almost like a sigh. "Might I demonstrate on your arm? If you are not comfortable, you _must_ say so. We have ethics on this matter --"

"Shit, are you kidding me? You've just told me you can blow my mind without actually blowing me. If this doesn't make paperwork more fun, nothing will."

Spock nodded and motioned to Kirk's left arm. "Would you roll up your sleeve?"

"I'll do you one better," Kirk answered as he took off his long-sleeved captain's shirt and tossed it on the floor, leaving his black t-shirt on. He held his arm out across the table and, if he was honest with himself, he was almost scared of what Spock was about to do to him.

"Some humans have what you have called 'extra sensory perception'," Spock said quietly as his fingers hovered over Kirk's arm. "The phrase has come to mean abilities such as seeing the future, but literally, it is an extra sense. One more part of the brain able to absorb influences _and_ to influence." Kirk closed his eyes because Spock looked kind of ridiculous focusing so intently on his bare arm and the absolute nothing that was happe_oh fuck what was that_.

"I have not touched you yet," Spock said. "Just wait." Kirk felt Spock's fingertips, his left hand's fingers, hovering at the crook of his elbow, while his right hand held down his wrist. The hairs there reacted with the lightest touch, but there was more Kirk couldn't describe. Even as Spock didn't touch him, he _did_, and something caused the nerves in his whole arm to react and tingle. Spock's fingernails traced across the vein and his entire upper body shivered. The fingers moved to the inner skin of his forearm, his fingernails running across the skin gently and the tips barely touching the skin.

"Okay okay okay okay okay," Kirk said, forcing himself to open his eyes and pull his arm away. He looked at Spock, whose posture was still bent though the arm had been retracted, face disturbed, eyes elsewhere -- "Are you fucking _blushing_?"

"I told you it was reciprocal."

"I didn't do anything, you just made me moan like a little bitch."

"You did not moan audibly," Spock replied. "You did not have to. Do you understand now?"

"I didn't think I was doing anything to you -- did I? Did I do something?"

Spock nodded.

*

"Spock, I hate to tell you this," Kirk said as he straddled Spock on the bed, "But this isn't logical. I mean, we can justify it later, or now, but you know that's not the same."

There was a sliver of skin exposed on his back and Spock's hand had frozen there as it lifted Kirk's shirt. Their eyes met and Spock said, with something of a demanding tone, "If you have reservations, you _cannot_ let this progress."

"_I_ don't. Do you?"

"You would not be in my quarters, on my bed and lap, had I any reservations about your presence."

"Same here! I wouldn't be here learning the fun of Vulcan biology if it weren't -- you know -- fun." Kirk reached out to touch one of Spock's ears, but Spock grabbed his bare wrist and held it tightly -- "Holy shit _what_." Again, there was that fear, but this time it was coming from Spock and amplifying Kirk's own.

"I am _not_ a party trick for your amusement," Spock whispered. "I have reached out to you --"

"Okay, you've got to let go of my wrist right the fuck now, okay?" Which Spock did. "Secondly, don't fucking sit here and act fucking shocked that I laugh at _everything_ \-- have you been paying attention? _At all_?"

Spock searched Kirk's face for a moment and his expression cleared of any emotion Kirk thought he saw. "Your levity is not mean-spirited; I apologize, Jim."

"Okay. Okay. Goddamn, Spock," Kirk muttered to himself. He finally reached out and Spock turned his head. His fingers were freezing for some reason, and were even colder when he touched the curve of Spock's ear, which burned to the touch. "I've just realized I'd never touched you, you know, skin to skin -- we always have our long sleeves on, and you don't shake hands."

"Our culture has adopted those formalities to safeguard --" Spock stopped and Kirk heard his breathing hitch. "To safeguard ourselves."

"You're getting warmer, but I'm getting colder, like, 'I want my socks back' colder -- and it's like ninety degrees in here, too, for fuck's sake."

Spock nodded and after a moment, pulled back slightly and removed his outer shirt. He then reached out and placed a hand squarely on Kirk's bicep, which made Kirk shudder -- Spock's skin was burning hot and his own freezing, and the shock sent a flush of heat through his arm and back muscles. "You're not thinking anything -- no, you're not thinking with _words_, at _all_," Kirk remarked, touching the ridges and valleys of Spock's ears again and focusing on the way they changed color, the tips and edges becoming greener every moment.

"I -- talking becomes less important to me -- now -- though I am surprised -- but not very -- it has not to you."

Kirk grinned and brought both hands to the backs of Spock's ears, the sensitive skin on his neck, and said, "That syntax was terrible -- is this really fucking with you that much? No offense meant -- I'm, uh, gauging responses to stimuli." Spock responded by closing his eyes and exhaling almost unnoticeably.

Kirk noticed every spot he touched became noticeably warmer under his fingertips, and he had to admit, it was _fascinating_ \-- did he just use a Spockism? "I'd fucking swear right now that I just thought the word 'fascinating' in my head with your inflection. Or lack thereof."

"That is likely --" Spock shuddered under him and Kirk let out a noise when they fell back on the bed together, horizontal against each other, the exposed parts of skin that touched burning as they rested against each other. Kirk sat up again and took off his shirt. Once he was on Spock again, he let one hand run up the length of Spock's bare arm. Spock rubbed both his hands on Kirk's shoulder blades, which Kirk knew was an attempt to shut his mouth but ha! Things weren't strictly logos/pathos with humans, were they?

"I heard that," Spock commented.

"Fuck, Spock, do you know how awesome this is," Kirk muttered, trying not to let Spock sense that he was, finally, coming around to the non-speaking point. "You can tap me on the shoulder on the bridge and tell me Chekov's shirt is on backwards or that Sulu's 'coffee break' means he's fucking that nice ensign in a broom closet _without actually telling me_." Kirk shut his mouth but fuck, having touch-sex with a touch telepath meant Spock was probably aware that his next awkward thought was about Uhura. He focused his thoughts on Spock's bare hands moving along his sides and his back, the contrast between their body temperatures fucking _murdering_ his senses.

"She is a consummate professional," Spock said. "She would not have found the same value as you do. Your hands are still frigid." Spock brought them down from his neck and under his own shirt. "You will find my chest to be warmest near the lower center."

"I know -- Vulcan hangover remedies, remember?" he asked idly. There were no soft parts on Spock's torso, not really, so Kirk settled for one hand on his spine and one above the heart, significantly warmer to the touch. "You're disappointed," Kirk said. "Not in a sappy way, my hand over your heart has nothing to do with it, but I was going to say it before."

"I have already expressed my sentiments. I am not a trick for your amusement on the bridge." Kirk pressed his face against Spock's collarbone, trying to stop himself from moaning (audibly or _not_) as Spock's hands explored his new scar, still fantastically sensitive.

"Didn't _say_ you were, you stubborn asshole. For fuck's sake, I thought you were good with languages." Kirk slid up Spock's body and talked directly into his face. "Read between the lines, Spock. We can talk to each other whenever we want. That's what this is, isn't it? And it won't be fucked up by your perfect syntax and my filthy mouth. An open connection, am I right?"

Kirk saw Spock swallow and nod, and then saw a hand approach. He thought it would be for a mind meld and closed his eyes, bracing himself, but opened them when Spock's thumb and forefinger began tracing over the curves of his lips and the faint stubble framing his upper lip.

"You think my mouth is perfect -- you fucking sap," he grinned. "What am I thinking?"

Spock's free hand went to the back of Kirk's neck and pulled him in for a kiss that shut Kirk's verbal thoughts down completely. They noted the same emotion in themselves and in the other: relief.

*

"Now here's the thing -- don't even fucking give me that," Kirk laughed. "Of course I love talking, fuck, you know that. So look. I know you've just had the best telepathic climax of your fucking life. You can thank me soon. But here's the thing." Kirk was lying on his side, Spock mirroring him almost exactly, with Kirk's erection rather insistent against Spock and becoming more insistent every moment that Spock kept his fingers on Kirk's hip.

"What I'm thinking about here is time. You fuck -- we're fundamentally, biologically different. Your dad's going to live to be what, 200? Humans are lucky to reach 115 on a good day -- and you and I, we're not in the business of having 'good days'. But our brains are still wired to see time differently. I could see it in your fucking skull, right about the time we moved to the bed -- you looked at the clock and it meant nothing to you, all you saw was the whole night in front of you." Kirk pulled Spock closer against him, ignoring the pleading he was hearing in his mind to _shut up_ and be fucked. "This has been amazing, but Spock -- I've been aware, _painfully_ aware, of every minute that's passed. And I don't have a lot of them stored up. You don't either -- for fuck's sake, did you even read the job description for First Officer on board the USS Self-destruction?"

Spock was about to open his mouth to speak for the first time in close to an hour, but Kirk shook his head. "Don't even fucking think that, you fucking shithead bastard. I'd trade all the skanks in space for five minutes of this." Kirk realized what he had just said and moved even closer to Spock, wrapping an arm completely around his torso, not hiding his astonishment in the slightest. Spock raised an eyebrow and brought one hand to the hair at the nape of Kirk's neck. "Fuck, I can't follow that up, like, fucking ever. Come on. Stop my talking. You're laughing at me! You're laughing _with_ me. Fuck, you bastard --" He kissed Spock fiercely, laughing and grinning as Spock rolled on top of him.

*

Kirk walked into his second-ever pre-shore-leave lecture, late as usual, and greeted his crew. Spock and McCoy stood patiently on the make-shift platform again, dreading what advice their leader had to dole out _this time_.

"Enterprise! This time, we're going to do this lecture a little differently. I'm a big believer in learning from my mistakes, so -- everyone -- what's something you wish you knew before we beamed down for shore leave last time?" Kirk raised his hand and grinned. "I'll go first. I wish I knew not to tell random space skanks I'm captain of the _best starship_ in the _fleet_, because it'll get me kidnapped and lightly tortured."

"He still enjoys that phrase an inordinate amount," Spock commented quietly to McCoy.

"He _enjoys_ turning staff meetings into group snuggles, instead of warning them about the horrors waiting for them on the planet," McCoy replied.

Kirk turned around to acknowledge their comments and then turned back to the staff. "So come on! We're all family here. If we don't listen to each other, who _can_ we believe?"

"Training videos; Starfleet guidelines; anyone but the horny teenagers that comprise 90% of the staff," McCoy hissed.

"I've got one," Janie the science ensign said near the back of the room. "_Don't_ forget your aprocreationary shots in your bunk before beaming down." She paused and added, "_Sulu_."

"Okay, that's -- really helpful -- but names aren't really _necessary_, okay? Good start, though! Let's keep going!"

"Jim, you're a one man death march," McCoy said.

"Don't eat anything anyone in a bar gives you," another crew member called out.

"Don't think your good looks make up for how much you bitch about your ex-wife! It still won't get you laid!"

Kirk pursed his lips and wondered _who_ that could be directed at.

"Ooh, Captain, can we talk about things we _should_ do?" a young science officer asked. "Recommendations, as it were?"

"Uh, we're beaming down to a different planet in a different system, but -- I don't see why not --?"

"Great! Okay -- _do_ watch Mr. Spock dance -- that is some _crazy shit_." The crowd murmured in agreement and all eyes appraised Spock, who had his hands behind his rigid back and eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at the crew. Kirk didn't try to hide his trillion-watt grin.

"_Do_ buy the Captain and Mr. Spock drinks because eventually they _hug_." Murmurs of its cuteness accompanied the statement, and Kirk began to wave his arms in an effort to stop them.

"Come on guys, we're trying to --"

"Engineering can drink _all_ the other departments under a table," someone in a red shirt announced, causing an uproar in the room.

"Okay, if we can avoid -- GUYS." The room quieted down and watched Kirk. "Uh. I hope this has been a useful information session. Lecture dismissed! Beaming down starts immediately -- don't forget your medical packs -- _don't do anything stupid_."

"Unless it's each other -- no avoiding it _there_," McCoy replied.

The room roared with the staff's chatter as they dispersed. Kirk turned around to face Spock and McCoy, who had been practicing their glares for him since the last shore leave lecture and finally perfected them.

"That was most counterproductive."

"And embarrassing -- mostly for you when they all come back pregnant with diseased half-aliens carrying the next galactic pandemic."

"Okay, but you find me one person on this ship who wouldn't throw themselves in front of a phaser blast for a crew mate -- guys, just admit it. We all fucking love each other."

McCoy rolled his eyes. Kirk extended his hand and McCoy reluctantly shook it. Kirk turned his attention to Spock. He extended his hand to him as well. "To an excellent shore leave, Mr. Spock." Spock eyed the hand warily and took it. Their hands shook once, twice, and then Kirk announced, "We need a secret handshake. Okay, what if I do this with my finger --"

"_Captain_."

McCoy rolled his eyes and said, "You know, Jim, I think I'd be angrier at you --"

"Bones, how can you _possibly_ be angrier at me? Ever?" Kirk asked, playing with Spock's hand while Spock attempted to hide his fidgeting.

McCoy leaned in to Kirk and whispered, "Take your telepathic hand sex somewhere else, okay?"

"Doctor! I'm shocked!" Kirk yelled as McCoy exited the room. "You have no basis for that claim! I'll have you court-martialed! I'm just working --"

Spock grabbed him by the elbow and led him out of the room, Kirk talking the entire way.


End file.
